


Travelin' Far

by ArsenicAndOldLace



Series: Tony Stark Wakes Up in Strange Alleys [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bipolar Disorder, Bipolar II, Gen, Genocide, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith, Pre-Star Wars: A New Hope, Recovery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:14:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21975691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArsenicAndOldLace/pseuds/ArsenicAndOldLace
Summary: Tony Stark wakes up in a different desert and walks into a bar. Obi-Wan is in the bar. They go on a journey and feel emotions.
Series: Tony Stark Wakes Up in Strange Alleys [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1811473
Comments: 9
Kudos: 32





	1. Mr. Fix-It

**Author's Note:**

> Barely edited. Unbetaed. I'm hoping that posting my writing will encourage me to finish my writing lol.

What woke him up was the sand. It stung his cheeks. The sun by itself wasn’t enough to get him up, he stubbornly let himself roast. But the sand started to get to him. This seemed like a likely nightmare. There was no way he was in a desert. Rather, he wouldn’t ever let himself wake up lying in the sand, alone and forgotten. He opened his eyes, then closed them again right away. The heat was no joke, and the light that came with it wasn’t funny either. A splashing sound echoed from around some corner. Then some droplets fell on him. He got up quickly, staggered, and swore, “you fucking piss-drinking buffoon,” then tripped back onto his own ass. He felt like he’d gone on a bender, except he’d been sober for two years. He sure hoped he hadn’t gone on a bender, gotten into the suit, then flown into some god-forsaken desert on the other side of the world. Wait. Finally he processed what the pissing person had looked like. They were definitely not human. His heart started to race. This was turning into a panic attack picnic outing. Talk about avoiding situations that stressed him out. He was very stressed. FRIDAY was not responding, the suit wasn’t responding, and he didn’t think he was on earth anymore, Toto. 

He listened and waited until the alien left, then continued his mental breakdown in peace and relative quiet. Now that he was sure he wasn’t on earth, he needed some sort of plan. There were a lot of strange noises. It really was hot though, and he needed some shelter and water. He stood up again, this time slowly with a minimum of stumbling, and started walking around. At least he wasn’t barefoot. By the look of the suns, two of them, it wasn’t even midday yet. Two suns. Maybe he was on the nonexistent Tatooine. Of course, plenty of binary star systems existed in his own universe, but the idea of just starting over in a new galaxy was deeply appealing. 

There was an eopie. An eopie. He was screaming inside. And the thing pooped right in front of him. He stepped in it. Then another alien screamed at him, possibly in Huttese. Huttese was looking more and more likely. He decided right then and there he would treat this like a fun adventure in an unreality. He tossed a few curses back at the alien, “You piece of bantha poodoo sleemo shit!” The alien didn’t seem to hear him, but he felt a little bit better after exerting some control over his environment. 

There was one pounding unfortunate need. He didn’t have any money, or credits, or whatever, to trade for water. This was, of course, not the end of the world, but having money made things a little bit easier. It was kind of new to lack it. His shoulders were burning, so it didn’t really matter whether he had money or not, he needed to go inside somewhere. Good thing he wasn’t a droid. And that he didn’t have the reactor in his chest, he didn’t need to be mistaken for a droid. Why they didn’t let droids into cantinas, he didn’t know. If he owned a cantina, which he might back in his world, he would make it so only droids could come into his cantina. Maybe droids were the key. He needed to find someone in need of a mechanic, bullshit his knowledge, figure out how things worked here, and earn some credits. 

Finally he saw a place that fit the bill. It had a glowing sign, not in any language he knew, but a bar was a bar was a bar. Actually maybe it was a good thing he didn’t have any money. Then he couldn’t buy anything to drink. 

He brushed by other customers and tried to pretend everybody looked human. No, there wasn’t a pink lady with orange hair snorting blue space coke to his left, he was just manic. He sat down next to a man in a hooded brown robe drinking something that smelled like whiskey. Then he blinked. “Ewan McGregor?” 

Brown robe guy looked over at him. “No? I’m not whoever you’re looking for. I’m just a spacer.”

Okay, that was definitely a slightly worn skinny sick Ewan McGregor, thus Obi-Wan Kenobi, looking at him. He had just tried to mind-trick him. He had always wondered if he really would count as strong-minded. Not strong enough to stop Wanda from manipulating him, but strong enough to resist a drunk Jedi. “I think you’re exactly who I’m looking for. I need a little help.”

Obi-Wan gave him a searching look while still maintaining a slightly glazed expression, “If you buy me a drink, I’ll tell you anything.”

At this point, he figured Obi-Wan might be in worse shape than he was. And he was stranded from another universe, sunburnt, probably concussed, emotionally gutted, off his meds, and totally alone. Maybe it took one to know one. “You look like you need another drink as much as a fish needs air.” Diplomacy. He was king at it. He’d get straight to the point then, Obi-Wan’s attention seemed to be leaving him for an interesting spot on the wall. “I’ll fix anything you have, but I need your help. If you have a problematic vaporator? It’s fixed.”

Obi-Wan kept staring at the wall. 

“You need help. I’ll help you. Then you help me.” From the way Obi-Wan’s head twitched he was finally making contact. 

Obi-Wan wished the man would go away. He was enjoying the way the whiskey felt in his body, dulling his senses. Everything was a tiny bit more bearable except for this buzzing fly. He didn’t know this guy, he’d try to mindtrick him but unfortunately he was too strong. He supposed he could really Force the guy away, but that might draw attention, and that was the last thing he wanted. And the guy wanted to help him? He felt genuine, but genuineness meant nothing and the Force was a liar. On the other hand, what could the man’s sales pitch possibly be? He had done nothing, and while he was about as good at being a Jedi as a gungan being a senator, he didn’t really have anything to lose. If this man endangered Luke, he’d kill him. The Force was still on his side enough to beat a middle-aged human. “Hm. My landspeeder has been making a strange noise.”

Tony smiled at him. “Lead the way.”

They reached Obi-Wan’s landspeeder, neither of them walking very well, but Tony noticed that even when drunk, Obi-Wan walked silently. He wondered what it was like to be aware of everything all the time. He was aware of a lot, more than most people though from looking at him, but he couldn’t feel other’s feelings, and he certainly couldn’t change anybody’s mind. He knew that well enough now. He rubbed at his chest abesntmindedly, then regretting it when his arm twinged. He still hadn’t had it checked out. He didn’t want to know what was wrong with him. He wondered if the Force could tell Obi-Wan what was wrong with him. 

He was still lost in his head when something was shoved into his chest. It was a flask. He hoped it had water in it. “Thanks.” 

“It’s water. You looked like you needed it.” Obi-Wan wasn’t sure what he was doing, but it felt good to help someone, especially with something easily fixed. And this guy, he didn’t have his name, looked pretty rough. He was short, with a goatee, and slightly-silvered black hair. A little bit thin, and olive skin now deeply sunburnt. He had bruises on his arms and the way he rubbed his chest spoke of pain. He should give him his robe. He was definitely not wearing the right clothes for the climate. How did someone so unprepared come to Tatooine? That was a foolish question. Unprepared was the only way anyone came to Tatooine. 

Kenobi gave him his robe. “First date and we’re sharing clothes?” Tony joked, then thought about it. Culturally, dating might not be a thing. No one really knew how much the Jedi were actually about chasitity, though there were some novels where Obi-Wan had old flames he most certainly had had sex with. This would test if the extended universe really was canon. 

“I did buy you a drink. Actually, I gave it to you for free. It’s a pity date.” Obi-Wan responded, relieved that at least his wit didn’t fail him. He failed in every way possible, but he could still talk. What a gift. “I have one question, as you’re about to put your hands in my machine, what’s your name?”

“Tony Stark, and you?” Tony responded quickly. No one knew him. Kenobi didn’t even blink. Tony Stark was no one. He hadn’t killed a country or split the Avengers. What a relief. Nobody knew his failures. 

“Very nice to meet you. I’m Ben Kenobi.” Great fake name, no one would ever recognize him.

“A pleasure, Kenobi.” Nerd wet dream right there. But now was not the time for wet dreams. And talk about coming down hard. He was pretty sure Obi-Wan Kenobi was an alcoholic. 

He took to the speeder. Thankfully, the principles behind mechanics didn't change even if his entire reality did. There was nothing more soothing than fixing something. He dug around inside it and found some tools which he then used, possibly not in their intended manner, to work out what was making the sound. 

Ben watched him work. Tony felt very confident, and moved like an expert, but there were strange hitches, like he wasn't familiar with the tools or engine. He radiated competence in spite of this. When Ben had seen his palms earlier, he had the rough calluses of a workman. He wasn't sure why he was letting Tony fix his speeder. He was alright with fixing things himself, though he was no Ana- he was no mechanic. The Force had never spoken so strongly since he'd come out to the desert, and the Force wanted him to help this guy. 

Tony strained and forced the last part back in its correct position. He'd been able to fix the noise, thankfully it was nothing serious. When he stood up his back cracked. When he turned around Ben was staring at him intently. It felt like being examined by a giant, like Ben's conscious was too big for his body. Which of course, Ben was full of the Force. With a capital F. He gazed back. Ben wasn't the first thing bigger than him he'd faced. And for all he was sure Ben could squish him like a bug, he knew he wouldn't. "I fixed your speeder." 

"You did. I did promise to help you." 

"We didn't pinky promise, so it's not securely binding, but you're my only hope." His voice wavered a little on the last line, hiding his laughter. 

Ben wished the man in front of him would make sense. Now he was hiding laughter. Ben wasn't sure putting his one hope in him was worth it, or funny. "We'll go back to my place and sleep, Mos Eisley isn't a safe place to stay overnight without a locked door. Even then. We need to set off now to get back before both suns are down."

Tony ungracefully got into the speeder. Oh how jealous his dad would have been, he was in a flying car. Ben got in much more gracefully and they headed out into the wastes together. 

_

Tony felt the burn in his neck. He had been looking at the stars for so long. Ben had wandered off somewhere, probably to meditate or other fancy Jedi things. The stars here were nice. They were vivid and alive, but they didn’t look like the stars above Afghanistan, or anywhere on earth. They didn’t look like gaping maw of the wormhole either. They were just beautiful stars. It was time to reflect and plan for the future, if he didn’t want to rely on astrology to tell his future. He had never relied on something other than himself to tell his future. He missed FRIDAY. He missed Pepper too, but missing Pepper wasn’t new. FRIDAY had never left him since she’d been born. He pushed thoughts of FRIDAY and his universe aside. His main question was whether or not he needed to go home. There still was a threat, waiting out there somewhere, but was going home the best way to deal with that threat? At home, they had some big players, with Vision as perhaps their most powerful option, but he knew that Vision was not enough. From here, he could make powerful allies. He would have access to tech that he could only dream of at home. And he knew, if Obi-Wan was on Tatooine that meant that Darth Sidious was in power. Should he interfere? Should he help them end his reign? If he died here, was there someone on earth who would face the coming threat? He didn’t think so. He needed to get home. 

He lay back on the sand and tucked his arms behind his head. Before he thought about going home, he needed to locate earth. It stood to reason that he was in a completely different universe right now. The Star Wars universe. Earth may or may not exist here, and even if it did, it probably wasn’t his earth. If he went off of George Lucas’s timescale, and he was in the same universe as his own, he was in a time long before his own. He had to narrow down the possibilities. The biggest source of esoteric knowledge was probably the libraries of the Jedi Temple. On Coruscant, undoubtedly still under watch for Jedi trying to go home. They might not be totally inaccessible, if he could get his hands on a computer with access to the holonet and the Temple’s servers were linked to the holonet he might be able to get in. Or not. The knowledge could be on a holocron, and he would need a Force user to open those. 

To deal with those problems, a droid might be best. He needed to find and program a droid to get into the Temple’s library. The droid never had to leave the Temple, and Tony wouldn’t have to risk himself or Obi-Wan by going into the Temple physically. 

As Tony worked through how to get home, Ben threw himself into the wind. It had been a stressful day. As he became every particle of sand, and every moving creature from the plodding bantha to the scurrying womprat, the stars screamed at him. They told him of his failures and his past, but this time they mentioned a hint of the future. He needed to leave his post, and trust in the Lars to care for Luke, and go to the Coruscant Temple. He almost threw himself violently back into his body. He was planning on dying on this planet, in an insignificant corner of the galaxy, once Luke had no need of him. But the Force had other plans. It always did. He was beginning to think the Force didn’t like him. All the joy he knew in it was just a facade, for at its heart was the creeping entropy, the encroaching disorder, the truth that even as the stars told him his future, they were burning out. Something was burning them out. 

Tony curled up on his bed. He hadn’t tried to sleep. He didn’t think he’d slept in four days. If he’d been on earth, he would’ve been in his lab, inventing and creating, getting the thoughts he was full of out onto the earth. Not every thought, though, for even hypomanic he had some sense. Some thoughts had no place in ever touching reality. He’d learnt that lesson, and others had payed for it. His real secret was that he hadn’t been any shade of manic when he’d made Ultron. He’d been on meds, sleeping and keeping a regular schedule. He’d had support. But that wasn’t enough to stop him from birthing monstors. Rolling over, physically and mentally, he went back to planning his immediate future. 

Ben felt every toss and turn of Tony’s mind. It was better than focusing on his own churning thoughts. The depth of loathing from Tony made him glad he didn’t know what he was thinking. He had enough loathing in his own mind. He wondered what Tony had done to make him feel that way. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be worse than Ben’s own failures. Who else was responsible for the genocide of his people? Oh, they all played their own parts, through inflexibility and ignorance, but who truly failed? He was hailed as a model Jedi, and his model had wrecked the galaxy. 

-

Palpatine dreamt in splashes. Mostly he meditated, and the sheer darkness that radiated from the galaxy was refreshing in its own right, but he did need sleep every now and then. There was a splash of a world destroyed, but not the whole world. Half a world. Then on to the next one. 

And the next one. Each one was a victory. But none were enough. He needed more to please the Dark. The Dark was a greedy master, and accepted nothing less than all. When he woke up, he knew his next steps. Some being was out there killing populations, and they would be a valuable ally. 

-

Ben finally fell into a fitful sleep. He muttered, tossing and turning. At one point, every item not bound to the floor lifted from the ground a centimeter or so. Tony still trusted that Obi-Wan wouldn’t harm him, but it looked like excessive drinking and control didn’t go together. When they had gotten back to the hut for the night, Obi-Wan had drank some more bottles of something. It had smelled strongly alcoholic. He hadn’t offered any to Tony, for which he was thankful, he didn’t need to be drunk on top of everything else. Obi-Wan’s breathing settled, and Tony got out of bed and started cleaning up some of the mess from the Jedi’s loss of control. He was familiar with a loss of control. Most people would agree it was good that he didn’t have the power to lift things with his mind, though. 

Ben blinked open his eyes. The suns weren’t up yet, of course. He must have slept. That was a little unusual. His strange guest was still around, sitting outside concentrating. His Force didn’t feel rested. Tony must not have slept at all then. What a pair. 

Tony had found a broken datapad, and he was focused on repairing it. He had managed to clean the sand out, as much as possible on a sand-covered planet, and had started on fixing the connections between the motherboard and the power source. Even in a different galaxy, some of the vocabulary still fit. The power source itself was fascinating, it seemed to be a plasma cell. It wasn’t actually as good as an arc reactor in terms of output, but it didn’t need to be. It was incredibly small and relatively powerful. Finally, it turned on. Passworded. Not a huge problem, but more inconvenient when he didn’t know the language. He started trying workarounds, and eventually one was successful. He now could call himself an intergalactic slicer. Nothing sexier than that. The datapad didn’t have holonet access, but he didn’t really need that. He was able to slice some poor moisture farmer’s holonet access point and now began the real work. 

Ben walked outside. Tony was totally invested in hacking into Ben’s old broken datapad. Which was alright, he supposed. It gave him a better idea of Tony’s capabilities, and there was nothing on the datapad about his past or the twins. Just holonovels and scientific treatises on the convergent evolution of desert planets’ predatory species. Any being would yawn, unless they were exiled on one of those planets with next to no stimulation after being in an incredibly stimulation-rich environment. Change was hard. 

Ben made his steps louder and coughed. Tony still jumped, full of fear and a readiness to fight. Ben noticed his hands were out in an odd pose, like he was trying to Force-push him. Ben could feel the man’s pulse shoot up and his heart skip a beat here and there. That didn’t feel healthy. That was also not his business. What he did need to discuss was journeying to Coruscant. With a man he didn’t know for a reason he couldn’t explain. What fun. 

-

Obi-Wan had asked him to go to Coruscant with him. He had not been expecting that, as far as he was aware, Luke and Leia were Obi-Wan’s hope. Going to Coruscant didn’t really align with that goal but Tony also knew that there was a Force that he could only dream of at work. He hadn’t planned on going to Coruscant either, as he had many safety concerns. But this was a chance to get near a place that might have the knowledge to get him home. He couldn’t pass it up. He wondered if they’d get a ride on the Millenium Falcon. Probably not, but just seeing it would fulfill some boyhood dreams. Sometimes, when he was on earth, he had thought about building a semi-working replica of the Millenium Falcon, minus the hyperdrive and space travel. He was a billionare, but those billions were not stored in cash, and he actually did have better things to spend his time and money on. 

Ben was surprised at how easily Tony agreed to a long space trip, but he supposed he knew next to nothing about Tony other than what he’d learned just from watching him. Tony was extremely anxious, did not sleep, an excellent mechanic, a slicer, had some combat reflexes, and an outer rim accent. He was always planning and turning things over in his head, didn’t like the Empire, and wasn’t easily swayed by mindtricks. And the Force wanted them together. He supposed their journey would let him get to know him better. He might have to exercise his tarnished silver tongue. 

  
  



	2. Shiver and Shake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Between Two Places, or they will get somewhere eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetaed, not really edited. No update schedule to speak of, though I finished up undergrad and started my new job in the time since I last posted so I have reasons.

Tony felt awful. His whole body violently shook, and he felt his mouth fill up and he spat it out, and kept spitting and then he wretched. He heaved several times. Obi-Wan had the 'fresher for his own pain, alcohol withdrawal was more serious than SSRI and atypical antipsychotic withdrawal. He knew there was a different term for withdrawing from SSRIs, but right now his thoughts were a little occupied. And what was the point of the difference in name? SSRI withdrawal made him alternately burning hot and pouring sweat, then freezing and shaking, with nausea, vomiting, mood swings, uncontrollable laughing and crying. All heaps of joy upon his head. At least he wasn't shitting himself and in danger of a heart attack from going without his precious. Obi-Wan may have started on this adventure willingly, but right now Tony could hear him calling out to any higher power for death. At least he wasn't hallucinating. If a desert hermit came at him with his lazer sword, he didn't have anything on him to stop it. Which brought him to another train of thought. If he came upon a Sith, how would he stop them? He had advantages, to be sure, but he was only a non-Force sensitive human. He closed his eyes and pictured armor. He would make it ready for space, and if only he had some cortosis. Or phrik. Those were two lightsaber-resistant metals he had read about. And kyber crystals, how could he tap their power? They resonated with Force sensitives, but the Force was in everything, so perhaps they resonated with anyone, and only Force sensitives could hear them. Maybe. He figured Obi-Wan would be the one to ask about all this, but unfortunately Obi-Wan was occupied.

Ben was not having a good time. He couldn't even think of any good times right now. He was voiding everything from his body, using the Force to purge, and the 'fresher was whispering to him in Mace Windu's voice, hissing "Last, last" over and over again. He closed his eyes for a moment and heard "last, last" in the creaking of the ship. When he opened his eyes he saw the ugly yellow 'fresher floor glaring at him. Thankfully he passed out before he could ponder the meaning behind yellow, his cheek thudding off the lid and then onto the floor. He had fallen into the best sleep of his life.

Tony heard the thud, presumed a fall, and heaved himself upright, making his way through their structurally unsound ship while avoiding the massive hole in the floor. Sure enough, Obi-Wan lay on the floor, with the promise of a larger bruise forming on his chin. Beneath the ugly ‘fresher lights Obi-Wan’s body was alarming. His bones jutted from underneath his tunic, and the circles around his eyes spoke to years without sleep. Tony grabbed his wrist and felt for a pulse. It was there, thready but unbroken. After examining Obi-Wan for further injuries and finding only old scars and a couple of newer bruises, he stood up and got caught by his own reflection in the mirror. God, his face was still bruised, and the robes Obi-Wan had lent him only served to make him look small. He looked vulnerable. He didn’t have the time to be vulnerable. He needed to get down into the engine room and see what he could use to start making some sort of armor. He got out of the ‘fresher as fast as he could and almost tossed himself into the hole where the engines resided, barely catching himself at the bottom. He didn’t dwell and that aspect of his frailty for too long, because the engines captured him. 

They were beautiful. They might have bought a wreck on its ninth life, but even then, its machinery was beyond earth’s. Even his own at this point. The hyperdrive itself was the focal point. Back at home, the world didn’t know how close he was to achieving lightspeed, just like much of what he did he kept it under wraps, he had learnt from Sunset, Obie, and Vanko, to mention a few, that whatever he had other people would waste no time in trying to have for themselves. But the hyperdrive, even one as antique as this, outshone his own technology. He got lost inspecting its wonders for awhile. Time was limitless in hyperspace. 

-

Obi-Wan wasn’t really unconscious. He almost wished he was. He was aware he was laying on the ‘fresher floor, but he had no desire to change that. It was both humiliating and fitting. Instead of going back into his body and dealing with life he floated and felt. The wonder Tony gave off while he inspected the engines was energizing. The pain in that man’s chest, and shortness of breath, he must be injured. But they felt like old injuries. He moved past the aches and pains and drifted into a passing nebula. The Force rejoiced in the birthing of new stars, hydrogen and kyber making up their hearts, drawing matter in and into their center, heating up past the point of organic life. Old stars expanded, becoming supergiants, inhaling the planets around them, then closing back in on themselves, some continuing to compact, compact, compact until they pushed past the limits of atoms, breaking electron orbits, compressing electrons, neutrons, and protons into a black hole. The hole drew light into it, and he went with the light. He couldn’t escape as long as he held onto the light. He let go, and he popped out the other side as Luke’s heartbeat. Strong and sure, excited then relaxing. He, Luke, lit up as he felt a bright friend. It had been several days since he’d felt him, he had missed him! No one else around was quite as shiny and fun. Too quickly Luke’s friend left him. 

-

He had started to lose himself in Luke’s presence, but he felt a pluck on the string that led back to his body. He had to leave. Oh, but how wonderful it was to sit in the light of the sun! He gathered his presence and headed back over endless light years, forever and a day, and he once again found himself on the ‘fresher floor. His body hurt. He spread his senses out a little, that alarm that had thrummed through him was still present. There was something following their ship. Pirates. Their motives were clear, and methods would undoubtedly be unsurprising. He walked through the coming encounter. There wasn’t a way to avoid them, but even in his pathetic condition he could deal with them. Besides, his new partner might be of some help. 

\- 

Tony had finished gazing lovingly at the hyperdrive and had scavenged some unused parts into the beginning of a gauntlet. He was drawing on a lot of his childhood memories from reading the extended universe books, and he hoped they were relatively true to life. He wasn’t going to test it, since he was in a spaceship, but he was confident enough. He had just started working on a gauntlet for his other hand, when someone tapped on his shoulder. He whirled around, readying the gauntlet, and then he realized it was just Obi-Wan. The other man’s face was neutral, not commenting on his jumpiness. 

“Tony. There are pirates following us, and I imagine it’s not because they want to offer us a ride.”

Right. Pirates. Space pirates. “Ships ahoy.”

Ben raised his eyebrows and otherwise ignored the comment. “Don’t worry about them. I’ll talk with them, you just stay down here. Be ready.”

“Do you have a plan?”

“I think I’ll invite them in for tea. What do you think?”

“Sounds fantastic, I’ll prepare the crumpets.”

“Why don’t you prepare them down here? That way they’ll be a surprise for the twelve guests.”

“On a serious note, are you armed?” 

“I am. Don’t worry about me.”

“Just stay down here, if we end up needing the crumpets, I’ll yell.” 

“Got it.” Normally Tony wouldn’t sit back while others fought his fight, but this time they were fighting space pirates, and in all honesty, he didn’t think he was quite prepared. When it came down to it, he was sure he could take several of them, but he knew he couldn’t take down all twelve, or even six of them. He was exhausted, disorientated, without armor, and old. None of those things spoke well of his current abilities. But Obi-Wan didn’t really look that much better than him. Admittedly, Obi-Wan did have the Force, so even at his worst he was probably better than Tony. 

And yet, he couldn't let him face them alone. He had noticed something earlier down in the engine room that had great potential for chaos. Never a better time to test out theories than midconflict. 

-

Ben wished the pirates would just leave. Why were they after their cheap ugly twenty-year-old ship? Oh, an idea. The pirates' ship looked a little better than theirs. He set off to make his idea reality. 

-

Ben stood in the middle of the bay, glad for once that he hadn't been taking care of himself. He looked like a spice addict near death, not someone with money or who would be worth anything as a slave. The strange thing was the pirates hadn't hailed them. No murmurs from the Force either. Perhaps he finally smelled too bad for the Force. That would be lucky. He felt more alert once the whole ship jolted and the sound of metal cutting reached his ears. Two pirates on the other side, not Weequay thankfully. Ten more right behind them and twelve in the other ship still. 

Not enough to take him yet.

**Author's Note:**

> I like Obi-Wan Kenobi and Tony Stark. So this is fulfilling some sort of inner need. Let me know if you like it by kudos or comments. I crave feedback and validation.


End file.
